“Re’eh Anochi nosen lifneichem hayom beracha ukellalah – today I am giving you both a blessing and a curse” (Devarim 11:26).
Before today, your fate as to whether you would be blessed or cursed, rich or poor, healthy or sick was dependent on your mazal, on the star under which you were born. There was nothing you could do to override it. Today, however, I am giving you the power to change your fate. For you, it is the observance of the “Anochi Hashem Elokechah,” the ten commandments and the 613 mitzvot that flow from them, that determines your fate. From the time that the Torah told us “Re’eh,” it is no longer G-d who is the cause of blessings and curses. “Mipi elyon lo tetze hara’os vehatov” (Eicha 3:38). It is man himself. Therefore, “Ma yisonen adam chai,” there is no point in complaining when troubles befall you, but rather, “Gever al chatoav – overcome your sins.”
Re’eh not only means to see, but also to understand. We must understand that what we perceive to be a blessing may in reality be a curse, and vice versa. That is why the blessings were given on Har Gerizim, because what looks like a beracha could really be a gezeirah, a curse.
The only true blessing is the ability to live one’s life in accordance with the Torah prescribed way and to have the time to do the simple things, like putting on tefillin each morning, saying a beracha before enjoying food and giving one’s children a proper Jewish education.
The gift of money that one usually associates with the word blessing (Rashi, Bamidbar 6:24) could in reality be a curse. “Osher shamur leba’alav lera’aso,” wealth can be detrimental to its owner (Koheles 5:12). It can leave you with no time to daven in the morning, it can distract you from making a beracha, it could make you believe in yourself rather than in G-d and it could transport you to a location which is good for making money and bad for raising children. And by the time you have understood that the curse came disguised as a blessing, it may be too late to reverse the damage.
“Lo ta’asun kein lashem Elokeichem” (12:4 and Rashi there): you should only offer up korbanos in the Beis HaMikdash, nowhere else. Korbanos must be offered up thoughtfully, not haphazardly. By requiring one to trek with the korban all the way to the Temple in Jerusalem, the Torah focuses one’s mind on the meaning and the purpose of the korban. Offering korbanos up anywhere one likes turns it into a trite practice. It is similar to an overuse of the term “Baruch Hashem,” which transforms a holy phase into a meaningless cliché.
“Ki Lo basem ad atah el ha’menucha ve’hanachala (12:9) – for you have not yet arrived at the place where you can rest and to the land you have inherited.” This sentence starts out by addressing the people in the plural, “basem,” and ends by addressing them in the singular, “lecha.” The message here is that even if one tribe or one individual has already managed to conquer his allotted portion of land in Israel, he is not allowed to settle down there until all the other tribes have conquered their land as well. An individual should not rest in comfort when his brothers are still at war. This is the same message that Moshe gave to the bnei Gad and bnei Reuven. They could only return to their land on the east of the Jordan after they had joined in the battle for the west bank and helped their brothers conquer their portions. Only after all of the tribes were able to relax, “Ish tachas gafno vetachas te’einoso” (Michah 4:4), in the shade of their vines and fig trees, could each individual allow himself to enjoy his home.
“Shemor ve’shamata es kol hadevarim ha’eleh asher anochi metzavecha…ki ta’aseh hatov vehayashar be’einei hashem” (12:28). Shemor means to keep and Shemata means to understand. It is only by faithfully observing the laws of the Torah that one will come to understand their meaning, not the other way round. Not by taking short cuts to defeat their true ethical purpose. So yes, you could write a pruzbul (Gittin 36a) to allow you to collect money you lent to a poor person even after the Shemittah year. And you could bring your produce through the skylight, instead of through the front door, to avoid the obligation of tithes (Gittin 81a). You would be observing the black letter law of the Torah, but you would be defeating its ethical purpose, lifnim meshuras hadin, which is what the word “hayashar” means. The purpose of Shemittah is to act like a modern bankruptcy, where debts are wiped out. It is to level the playing field between the rich and the poor, so that “efes ki lo yiheyeh becha evion (15:4) – there should no longer be any poor people among you.” And the purpose of tithing is make sure that the kohanim and levi’im who spend their days and nights tending to your spiritual welfare are taken care of and alleviated of financial worries.
“Eichah ya’avdu hagoyim ha’eleh es eloheihem ve’e’eseh ken gam ani (12:3) – how can I copy the other nations who worship their idols.” The numerical value of Eichah is 36, equivalent to the 36 prohibitions of illicit relations enumerated in Vayikra 18. As Chazal tell us, the drive towards idol worship comes from the urge to participate in licentious activities (Sanhedrin 64a). What better way to solve one’s conscience than to make a religion out of sexual immorality. But the price on one’s personal life is heavy. It leads to “es beneihem ve’es benoseihem yisrefu ba’eish” (12:31), one offering up one’s children as sacrifices to the gods of addiction. Such conduct sets fire to family life and leaves one’s children abandoned among the debris of divorce proceedings.
“Ki menaseh Hashem Elokeichem eschem lada’as hayeshchem ohavim es Hashem Elokeichem bechol levavchem uvechol nafsheichem (13:4) – G-d is testing you to see if you are able to truly love G-d with all your heart and all your soul.” You should not listen to a false prophet who performs miracles and predicts the future, even if his predictions come true.
Who are the false prophets of today? They are the scientists who can prove to you that the Torah is incorrect, that the world created itself billions years ago and that man descended from monkeys. There may be no logical answer to these scientific claims. The only answer is the commitment of love one has toward G-d and His word. Love defies logic and overcomes questions. And until the scientists are proven wrong, perhaps not until we reach the next world, these false prophets are sent to test us to see how deeply we love G-d and his Torah and whether we can make this love bridge the gap between temporary “truth” and permanent truth. The love of G-d does not come from logic, it comes from learning. As Rashi points out, the words, “Ve’ahavta es hashem Elokecha” (you should love G-d) is followed immediately by the words, “Vehayu hadevaraim ha’eleh” (6:5). It is only by studying the words of the Torah and doing what they say that you will discover the love for G-d which will enable you to live with questions.
“Vesarafta ba’eish es ha’iyr ve’es kol shelalah kalil” (13:17). Regarding the ir hanidachas, the city which has turned to idolatry, the Torah requires us to burn all of its contents “kalil”, completely. Why is the additional word kalil necessary? Wouldn’t the requirement to burn its contents be enough?
The word kalil is also used in describing the Korban Olah, (see Rashi, Bereishis 18:12) which too is completely burned. The Korban Olah is brought in atonement for neglecting to perform a mitzvas aseh, a positive commandment, or for performing it thoughtlessly. That is where the road to idolatry begins. The purpose of the mitzvas aseh is to remind us constantly of the existence of G-d and his Torah. By praying three times a day, by making one hundred blessings daily, by putting on tefillin each day, by affixing a mezuzah on one’s house, we surround ourselves with Him, in the spirit of “Shivisi Hashem lenegdi tamid – I place G-d before me always” (Psalms 16:8), blocking the way for idolatry to enter.
The mitzvah of wearing tzizis, for example, is there so that when we look at the tzitzis, we remind ourselves of the 613 mitzvos which they represent. That will stop us from running after what our eyes see and what our hearts covet. If we neglect to perform the mitzvah of tzizis or any other mitzvas aseh, we must bring a Korban Olah to atone for the omission. Had the residents of the ir hanidachas reminded themselves constantly of G-d’s existence by performing the mitzvas aseh or had they brought olos to correct their conduct when they failed to do so, they would not have reached the end of the road and they would not have turned to idolatry. To atone for not having done so, all of their possessions are burned “kalil,” completely.
“Banim atem Lashem, lo tisgodedu velo tasimu korchah bein eineichem – we are children of G-d, so do not lacerate your flesh or tear out your hair in mourning over the dead” (14:1). Despite the pain of loss, life continues. We may not dismember our bodies in despair and render ourselves unfit to fulfill our destiny, which is to serve G-d. Neither should we lose sight of the fact that like the hairs on one’s head which might die but grow again, birth constantly replaces death.
The kosher fish must be equipped with fins to swim against the current and scales to protect it against the raging sea (14:9). We too, who live in societies where the Torah has become unfashionable and alien to modern mores, need to equip ourselves with force to swim against the current and with armor to protect us from the turbulence of our times. “Veharesha’im Kayam nigrash” (Yeshayahu 57:19). We can only do this by adhering to the mitzvos, the power stations that generate holiness.
